Promises
by primitivekittens
Summary: A tragedy occurs and Mallory and Wildwing must cope...W/M...Don't read if you are easily offended, I don't wan't y'all sending me hate mail.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own Mighty Ducks: The Animated Series, heck, I don't own anything, so suing me would kind of be dumb, wouldn't it? All you'd get are my painting and other various art supplies anyways.  
  
Author's Note: Hey y'all, yeah I know, it looked like I was dead for a while there, with the lack of updates and all that. Anyways, I'm not feeling good this weekend so it inspired this semi-depressing fic. It would be more depressing if I was actually good at writing, but hey, I'm not complaining. It's another one of my Wing/Mal fics, so I'm just warning you if you are a shipper of an alternate persuasion. I'd rather not have people's pens thrown at my head for not giving warning ahead of time. Leave a response, or review if you want, and if you don't, well that's cool too. Flames are fun, so if you want to send those, go on right ahead and do that. See y'all around, and may you all find happiness in all the small things!  
  
Part One  
  
She stood there silently, unable to move. Her grief was like a knife, cutting through her soul and cutting out her heart. As she looked each grave over, she sighed and realized that her life would never be the same again. She whispered each name with all of her strength that she had left, and felt the tears inevitably welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  
  
"Grin.Nosedive.Duke.Tanya."  
  
She crouched down to touch the names on each individual grave, and she placed a rose by the base of each tombstone. She stood silently, the wind whipping her hair and long, black dress around, seeming to give an eerie chill to the already cool weather. She shivered, and for the first time since she had been to this spot she realized that her own body was crying out to be taken care of. She needed sleep, a hot shower, and a warm bed. None of that seemed to matter at this time to her though; she was feeling too much grief and guilt to even take concern to her own needs. She felt one lone tear roll down her cheek, leaving a tiny trail behind it. Suddenly, she felt his strong arms wrap around her, and realized that she was so caught up in the moment that she hadn't heard him approach. For a moment she just stood in her place, relishing the feeling of his warmth against her. Then, a gasping sob escaped her beak and the tears began to flow, as if the dam in her soul had broken. He turned her around so that her head was leaning on his chest, and he silently comforted her as best as he could.  
  
"This.this is all my...fault" Mallory gasped in between sobs.  
  
"No, no Mallory it isn't" Wildwing tried as best as he could to relieve her of her guilt and sorrow.  
  
He held her until the sobs began to dissipate, and let her breathing turn back to normal.  
  
"We should have been at that robbery along with them, Wing, and maybe if we had been there we could have saved them, maybe we could have kept those humans from shooting them." Mallory whispered.  
  
Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, and Wildwing could feel her starting to lean on him to physically support her exhausted body. He knew that Mallory would gain nothing from beating herself up over a tragedy that no one could have prevented, but he also knew that she had to work out her grief on her own. No matter what happened though, he would always be by her side, ready to help her out whenever she felt like it was all too much to take. He carefully lifted her fragile body in his arms and carried her back to the Pond, knowing that she lacked the ability to move herself anywhere. He carried her all the way to her room and lay her down on her bed, removing her shoes and jewelry. Pulling the covers over her, he wiped away the least of the tears that lingered on her pale, porcelain face, and softly kissed her forehead.  
  
"If you need anything, I'll be right across the hall, okay Mal?" asked Wildwing.  
  
"No, don't leave me here alone" Mallory murmured groggily, "Stay with me here"  
  
Wildwing kicked of his shoes and long, black trenchcoat, and quietly lay beside her on her bed, underneath the warmth of the layers of blankets that kept the autumn, California chill at bay. Mallory still shivered, apparently still cold, and Wildwing wrapped his arms around her protectively. Seeing her in so much pain was more than he wanted to bear, but he kept himself strong for her, just as she always had done for him in his times of need. He could tell she was asleep now, her steady, gentle breathing his biggest indicator. All of a sudden she began to cry out in her sleep, and he knew that the horrors of this day were seeping into her sleep as nightmares. He began to talk to Mallory while she slept, words of relief and reassurance, as he used to do with Nosedive when he was little and plagued with nightmares far less drastic and real than Mallory's. She began to calm down and Wildwing gave Mallory one more strong sentiment of comfort.  
  
"Mallory, I'll always love you. Please don't ever forget that" He whispered in her ear.  
  
Somewhere in her light sleep, Mallory heard his words and murmured back to him, "I won't ever forget, Wing, I promise."  
  
Final Note: I was contemplating a semi-sequel type chapter to this, so if you really want, (Or in many other cases, don't want) me to add something on to this, let me know! I'd appreciate your opinions, and your thought on my plotline. See y'all! 


	2. The End

Disclaimer: I don't own MD: TAS, but we all know that, duh.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Mallory looked out at the sky, it was gray, just as somber today as it was 10 years ago, and again, the heavens seemed to mourn with her. She knew why the sky had turned such a darkened shade, Wildwing was dead, it by a drunk driver while going out for a run. It had been so long ago, since her four teammates had died, and now, the loss of her Wildwing was opening old wounds to accompany the new ones in her heart. Before she had felt as if she had lost a piece of her heart, but now she knew that she had lost her soul. Wildwing was absolutely everything to her, he was her world, her life, and now he was gone. Today, she stood in the same place as she had all those years ago, in the same black dress, for all the same reasons. As she looked at her surroundings, she could not believe her eyes. Not a single soul, besides herself and Phil had shown up for Wildwing's funeral, and Mallory doubted that the inhabitants of this planet were really all that grateful for their presence.  
  
'O, wait' she thought, 'we're different, and therefore, inferior, human philosophy at it's best, or worst.'  
  
As the ceremony came to a close, the sky began to pour down rain, crying for the loss of one of the purest angels on Earth. Mallory now let her tears flow freely, mixing in with the rain to hide her grief and anguish. She didn't stay for the burial of Wildwing's casket. She couldn't. Her broken heart and exhausted mind drained her of her will to even care. Mallory collapsed before the funeral had ended and had sobbed and cried out for her lost love. Phil had to drive her to her apartment, and help her get to her door without her collapsing. As Mallory entered her apartment, her tears seemed to dry, if only for an instant. Everything in this place seemed to remind her of Wildwing. As she gazed into their open living and dining area, she saw him, in the furniture he picked out, to his dirty coffee mug in the sink. She went into her bathroom, only to see him there too, in his masculine-scented soap, and his shampoo. She couldn't bring herself to take the warm shower she needed. She thought a nap might do her good, help her into a world where she didn't care, one where she was dead. But her bedroom was too much to bear as well, there were too many memories in the king sized bed that they had often made love in, and in his clothes that were strewn across the room.  
  
'Lord Almighty, help me, I can't go on like this anymore. I just want to be free of my constant sorrow." she sighed.  
  
She walked back out into her living room, eyeing the gun collection that she had kept in a display case. She remembered how Wildwing had let her keep it, even if he didn't approve of it. He knew that they may need to actually use a more lethal gun for protection purposes, sure, puck launchers hurt like hell, but they weren't fatal. However, Mallory's .22 caliber pistol was. She opened the case and picked up the gun, her mind now too stressed and taxed after all these years of her loss to even care if her thoughts turned into dangerous, self-destroying territory. Keeping the pistol firmly grasped in one hand, she closed the cabinet with the other, and then made her way into her bedroom to pick up a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote down something and then taped the note to the outside of her bedroom door. She shut it behind her, displaying a full length mirror attached to the back of it. Her reflection stared back at her guiltily, seeming to mock her for looking like a coward taking the easy way out. Mallory looked at herself one last time; she was still quite beautiful for a 33 year old duck. Many women her age were worrying about trying to get rid of wrinkles, or coloring their hair to cover their gray strands, but not Mallory. All of her beauty was still the work of Mother Nature, not chemicals in a box.  
  
'Well', she thought 'if I am a coward than at least I'm a pretty one.'  
  
She flipped off the light switch and pulled down the blinds on her window. She sat down on her bed, put the muzzle of the gun inside her mouth, put her finger on the trigger, and cried one last tear for her beloved friends, and the love that she shared with the most wonderful drake she knew. A loud bang reverberated around the room, and Mallory slumped down, dead.  
  
The next morning Phil immediately sensed something was wrong, and he headed over to Mallory's apartment. He easily got inside, she had left her door unlocked, something that neither her nor Wildwing ever did. He called out her name, and got no response, so he began to search around her apartment for her. The last place he looked was her bedroom, and was devastated t find the note taped to the front of her closed door.  
  
"I don't want to die, but I can't live with all of this pain. It's just too much. Tell Wing I'm sorry.  
  
~Mal~"  
  
Phil placed his head in his hand and shakily opened the door; the sight that greeted him was just too horrific for him to bear. There was Mallory, crumpled on her bed, with the back of her head blown off. There was blood and bits of brain matter covering the sheets on her bed and part of the wall behind her. Phil felt nauseous, but was able to tear his eyes away from this tragic sight and call 911. Several hours later, the coroner confirmed that Mallory's death was an accident, but also discovered that Mallory had taken not just one life, but two. She was three weeks pregnant with Wildwing's child. Phil shook his head in disgust, not only was Mallory dead, but she killed a child that she probably didn't even know she was carrying. He thought that it was all a horrible waste of life.  
  
He arranged for her to be buried next to her friends and her love, and as he viewed the headstones all six friends together in death for the first time, he promised that he would never let anyone forget what the Mighty Ducks had done for mankind. As he made this promise to them, the heavens opened up and poured down rain, mourning the loss of yet another one of it's angels on Earth.  
Final Note: Alright, so this fic was kind of up the depressing alley. But hey, angst is good, right? Like it? Hate it? Want more like these? Then let me know! I'll be glad to crank out a few more stories for y'all. 


End file.
